


every right thing (will find its right place)

by only_because3



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 17:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17390447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_because3/pseuds/only_because3
Summary: “You’ve got one heck of a mama, little one,” Alma explains. She tucks the blanket around him tighter but makes sure his arms are free. “One of the very best.”





	every right thing (will find its right place)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wild Horses](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14455491) by [iwantthemtostay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwantthemtostay/pseuds/iwantthemtostay). 



> Super big thanks to iwantthemtostay for letting me play in her sandbox. In the latest chapter of the Wild Horses sequel, there is a line that I’m sure was meant to be a throw away but it stuck with me: Alma being Grandma to Tessa’s future kid(s) even if they weren’t Scott’s. I took that idea and ran with it.
> 
> So now here is the darkest timeline! It would help if you read Wild Horses so that this makes sense (also it’s a fucking brilliant piece of fiction in general). This piece takes everything up to chapter 5 as canon but is very much in the future.
> 
> Thanks also go out to Marcia for beta-ing and helping with the title and to my wife for convincing me not to scrap this.
> 
> Enjoy?

It’s the first bit of alone time she’s gotten in hours. Though, she realizes with a soft smile pulling at her chapped lips, it’s now  _ their _ alone time.

Tessa trails her index finger over the tiny pink fingers poking out of the swaddle, marveling at the softness beneath her touch. She’s thankful she’s had so many people to check in on her (family, friends, her midwife, nurses, and doctors) but this is what she’s wanted. A moment to breathe. A moment between her and her son.

He lays all bundled up next to her on the hospital bed and she curves her healing body around his. She wants to unwrap him, bring him to her skin again, but he’s so content that she doesn’t want to disturb him. “You’ve been through an awful lot, haven’t you?” she sighs, a breathless laugh following the soft grunt he makes in his sleep. His cap scoots a little higher on his head. A quick tug and the dark tufts of hair below are revealed.

She’s been doing a very good job not thinking of Katie today but she wonders for a moment if Katie had this much hair. Do her babies look the same? Tessa wants to think there are similarities but she’s already headed down a slippery slope and she doesn’t want to taint this perfect moment with the overwhelming sadness of the birth of her daughter.

With a fortifying breath and a shake of her head, Tessa clears her mind and focuses on the tangible. He’s still so squishy, her baby boy. He doesn’t have her nose, at least she doesn’t think so, but there’s something about his mouth that reminds her of her own. For now, that’s all she can really make out, his features still hidden by his freshness. She lightly strokes his hair. Will this color stay? Or will it fade into something lighter? That’s what happened with Jordan’s boy.

It’s amazing, she thinks, how real her son is now but how nothing is set in stone yet.

There’s a soft knock on her door and Tessa rolls a little, looking over her shoulder. A head pops in that she hasn’t seen since her stomach had barely started swelling. “Hi, honey.”

“Alma!” The baby jostles at how loud she greets the other woman and Tessa is quick to calm him with soft murmurs. 

She starts to turn on to her back, wants to get a proper look at Alma but she’s ushered to stay as she is. “You’ve got to rest,” Alma insists. “You stay however is comfortable for you. I’ll move where you need me to.” 

Alma fusses with the blankets half hazardously draped across Tessa’s legs, checks to see that Tessa has socks on too, before pressing a kiss to Tessa’s hairline. When she sees the baby laying on the bed next to Tessa, she lets out a soft cry, hand coming up to cover her mouth. Her eyes instantly fill with tears and Tessa is a little surprised Alma wasn’t near crying just walking into the hospital room. 

“Baby,” Tessa says softly, “You’ve got another special visitor.”

Alma kisses her again and gives her arm a tight squeeze. “He’s  _ gorgeous _ .”

“Thank you.” She thinks so too but Tessa is sure there’s some bias on her part.

The scraping of the wood on the linoleum as Alma pulls up a chair in front of Tessa has the baby wiggling again. His eyes open this time with slow, heavy blinks as he adjusts to the light coming in from the windows behind their guest. Tessa catches his fist when he pushes it out of his loosened swaddle. “Would you like to hold him?” Her words come out a little muffled, unable to stop kissing his tiny hand to get her question out.

“Of course.” Alma picks him up with all the grace of a seasoned grandmother. Her breath catches again as she stares down at Tessa’s son and Tessa finds her own throat tighten at the sight of them. Alma bounces him lightly, her voice soft and hushed as she greets him. She’s wearing the biggest smile on her face and she looks so happy, but her hands press all over Samuel, making sure that he’s actually there. “And what’s our name, little one?”

“Samuel,” Tessa says. She loves the feeling of his name in her mouth, the way her lips and tongue move to pronounce the letters.  _ Samuel _ . When she had read it in an old baby name book, she turned it over and over on its own and she just  _ knew _ . Samuel was the name of her son, even without looking into his eyes first.

And it fit, so perfectly, with the middle name she chose, the name that had been carved into her heart long before she got pregnant.

Her eyes sting with tears and Alma looks up at the sound of Tessa’s sniffles, her smile shrinking when she catches sight of Tessa’s tears. “Are you alright?” she asks. Alma does a quick scan of Tessa, no doubt trying to assess if something is physically wrong.

Tessa shakes her head, wiping at her cheeks quickly. “I’m fine, sorry, sorry.” She doesn’t have to force her laugh quite as much as she expected. “God, these hormones are so much worse than I remembered.”

Alma, very kindly, doesn’t bring up how Tessa completely shut down after her first birth.

She doesn’t look away from Tessa just yet, looks at her with a critical eye. Tessa thinks Alma would climb in next to her if she were to ask. If Tessa needed to be held, Alma would have her arms wrapped around her before Tessa could finish the request. Her tears have nearly stopped and the corners of her lips are still upturned, even if her smile is a little smaller now. It must be enough to appease Alma because she gives her a sure nod before looking back down at Tessa’s son, awe coloring every single feature the older woman has.

“You’ve got one heck of a mama, little one,” Alma explains. She tucks the blanket around him tighter but makes sure his arms are free. He’s quite the waver, Tessa realizes. “One of the very best.”

Tessa blushes. “We don’t know that just yet.”

Her eyes are quick to meet Tessa’s. “I do,” Alma asserts. “I’ve known that since you were sixteen years old.” 

Tessa looks down at her fingers. There’s a loose thread at the hem of the blue blanket and her nails toy with it while she focuses on her breathing.

In, two, three, four, five. Out, seven, eight, nine, ten.

Alma shuffles a little closer. The hand that had been stroking the baby’s arm now reaches out towards Tessa’s. “It’s okay,” Tessa exhales. 

She presses the string between her thumb and forefinger, rolls it before tugging. “Does he look like her?” If Alma is surprised by the question, she doesn’t show it. “Can you remember?”

She clicks her tongue, a soft admonishment. “How could I forget?” 

Alma moves Samuel out in front of her, holds him along the length of her forearm, his head cradled in her hand. “Well, I can tell you now, he’s got just as much hair as she did.”

Tessa brightens. “Yeah?”

“Oh yes,” Alma nods. “In the midst of everything… I remember that the most. I was amazed. None of my boys ever had that much.”

She keeps nodding, even as she looks at the baby with a more speculative eye. “They got your lips too.” Her voice is softer, lighter when she continues, “Yes, you’ve got your mother’s lips, baby.” 

She drags a fingertip down the slope of his nose, the exact same way Tessa had last night, after everything had finally settled. “Nose is a little different.” 

Alma licks her lips and the sigh she releases is so sad, Tessa wants to get up and hug her right then. “I wish I could tell you if their eyes were the same.”

Katie had been rushed out to the other hospital before she had the chance to peek at the world.

The baby starts fussing and Alma’s laugh is wet. “Already trying to defuse situations? You certainly are your mother’s baby.”

“Could you unwrap him?” Tessa asks as she pulls down her gown. He latches on easily once he’s settled against her breast. She isn’t used to it yet, the sensation so foreign to her, the pressure and suction more than a little uncomfortable as her nipples adjust to feeding. 

They sit in a warm silence, the only noise filling the room being the soft suckles as the baby eats. Tessa is a little ashamed to admit that Alma falls away a bit, her focus narrowing down to her baby, his whole being pressed to her, flesh on flesh. It surprises her when Alma speaks up, even though her words are soft. “I’m so proud of you, Tess.” 

She finds herself smiling in thanks, eyes still glued to her baby boy. “You don’t think I’m crazy going at this on my own?” Tessa asks. Her family certainly had at first, even if they never said anything to her face.

“And why would I? You’re smart, strong, capable. Lord knows you’ve got the resources to give that little man everything he needs.” Alma rolls her eyes. She even huffs a little as she brings her sweater around her tighter. “Anyone who tells you you’re crazy, you send them my way.”

Tessa smiles, cheeks heating with a blush at how quick Alma still is to jump to her defense. 

Alma leans back in her chair. With her arms wrapped right around her, Tessa thinks she looks like she’s steeling herself. “I’ve been waiting to see this a long time, my girl.” Not even her mother said that to her. Tessa can barely make out Alma’s eyes they’re so glossed over with tears. It doesn’t take long for them to fall. “You and your baby… I can’t think of a sweeter picture.”

Tessa sighs. She holds Samuel a little tighter. “We both know that’s not true,” she says softly. 

Her baby pulls off, rubs his face against her breast. She brings him to her shoulder to burp him. Alma is watching them closely but Tessa isn’t strong enough to look back. “You know, I don’t know what the donor looks like… I was worried I’d choose someone who looked like him.” 

She hadn’t been brave enough to admit that to anyone, not even her mom, not even Jordan. Her therapist would likely have a field day with that too if she knew. Tessa shakes her head. “It’s sad, isn’t it? That I couldn’t trust myself  _ not _ to pick someone who looked like-“ 

Her voice breaks and Alma is quick to lean forward before thinking better of it, getting up to perch on the bed. “And why would that be sad?” she asks. If Tessa were in a better place, she’d laugh at how Alma brushes both of their tears away.

“I’m thirty-six and I still couldn’t…” She licks her lips, tastes salt. “I could never picture having a baby without him.”

Alma’s shoulders hunch and she drags a hand over the length of her face. Her other hand finds Tessa’s thigh, pats it twice. The action prompts Tessa to renew her vigor in getting a burp from Samuel and she pats his back stronger than she had been. 

There’s no slowing her tears now. They fall steady and silent, sliding from her cheeks to her baby’s back as she holds him close and he nuzzles into her neck. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t want to cry on your first full day here.”

“Stop that,” Alma chastises. “There’s nothing wrong with tears.” She looks out the windows. Her breath staggers. “Scotty would be bawling, seeing you with your own.”

“With our own,” Tessa finds herself murmuring. 

“You would have gotten here again.” Alma nods, Tessa thinks more to herself than anything. “There’s no way you wouldn’t have.”

Tessa nods and her eyes slip shut. They had been  _ so _ close…

Samuel starts rooting around in her neck, tickling her.  The sensation makes her laugh - and she strokes his soft skin, thankful for the reminder to chase happiness, to be grateful for her blessings.

He latches on to the opposite breast this time and Alma holds her hand, lets Tessa squeeze it as Samuel clamps down. Once he’s settled, Alma stands. “Is there anything I can get you? I smuggled in some cookies.” Her voice drops to an exaggerated whisper. “My chocolate ones.”

Her mom said that she would bring her food in an hour or so but… “Have I ever said no before?”

They share cookies while Samuel drinks his milk and Alma asks about what’s next. Yes, her mom is going to stay with them the first week or so. No, she doesn’t think she’ll need constant help after that. Of course she’ll let Alma know if she needs anything. It’s not necessary but if Alma wants, yes, Tessa could absolutely use some frozen casseroles. No, Tessa isn’t even going to look at her work email for six weeks, promise.

“Joe and the boys want to see you too,” Alma says. She wipes her hands then chuckles a little and leans forward to dust away the crumbs that fell onto Samuel’s belly. “When you’re ready for visitors, of course.”

“I'd really like that.”

Alma fiddles with her wedding ring, runs her thumb over her palm in long steady strokes. It makes Tessa rub Samuel’s back with a firmer touch. His hand, which has been moving at his side comes up to rest over her heart. 

“I have some things, to give you, if you’d like… things of Scott’s.” Tessa is quick to shake her head, her voice trapped in her throat, but Alma wags a finger in her direction. “No, no, I won’t hear it. They always would’ve made their way to you if he-“ 

Alma takes an audible breath. It’s been four years but Tessa knows it won’t get easier. “His baby blanket,” Alma starts again. “I dug that out when you told me you were pregnant.”

“I’d really like that,” Tessa says, her voice barely above a whisper. She thinks she’s seen it before, in old photo albums. Her mother, Jordan, they’ll worry more than they already do about how tightly she’s still holding onto Scott, but she already knows that she’ll use the blanket in the newborn photos she has planned for next week.

Samuel pulls off her breast noisily. Tessa smiles down at the milk drunk look on her son’s face. She finds herself laughing a little and eternally thankful and proud of how he’s already able to change her mood, to bring her back to the light. 

She looks to Alma. “Do you have to go soon? Or would you like to burp him?” Alma makes grabby hands and Tessa laughs. “What do you say, Samuel? Do you want some more time with Grandma?”

It’s not that she doesn’t mean it, but she doesn’t mean to  _ say _ it. 

Just as Tessa has always pictured no one but Scott as the father of her children, Alma has  _ always _ been Grandma. In a lot of ways, she earned that title long before Kate earned Nana.

Alma’s breath catches, a soft, “oh,” falling from her lips. Before Tessa can come up with any apologies, before the worry that she’s overstepped, that she’s claimed a place in Alma’s life that isn’t for her anymore, Alma is nodding furiously. “Grandma wants more time.”

Once Samuel is back in Alma’s care, the older woman scoffs even as she keeps crying. “Silly Mama, doesn’t she know she’s going to get sick of me now that you’re here,” Alma coos. Her hand falls in a steady rhythm on the baby’s back. “Thank you.” Her voice is so soft and, her eyes reverent when she meets Tessa’s gaze.

Tessa’s eyebrows scrunch together. “What for?”

“Making me a grandma again.” Alma looks so proud, happier too, than Tessa’s seen in a long, long time.

Tessa’s next breath feels new.

**Author's Note:**

> Come y’all at me on tumblr @idontneedtobeforgiven


End file.
